This story follows a young woman by the name of British whose mother was tragically murdered by sources unknown, this causes her to move back to Jamaica temporarily bringing back old flames she thought she already placed behind her.
Date started: Oc...
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Final Goodbye
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BRITISH SMITH| 24
For the past week, all Amanie and I did was: fuck, sleep and eat. He made me forget everything every time he went on top and damaged my insides.
"Oh fuckkk." I moaned out. It was possible that people next door could hear us but never once did he care.
Mom's funeral was in a couple of hours and I was aware of how disrespectful this might seem but Amanie couldn't get off my body and I wasn't complaining, we were apart for so long that I missed the very taste of his lips and by the way he looked at me, he felt the same.
My eyes rolled back in pure bliss as he went deeper, now touching my cervix. I jolted up trying to back away and create some space between us but it was no use, he just pulled me towards him placing my legs on his shoulders.
I was finally receiving the love my body desperately needed and every second felt like I was walking on clouds, he was my ecstasy, my newfound obsession my body continuously craved.
With a kiss on my lips, my body reacted to him instantly. The feeling of my cum slowly engulfing his dick made me let out one last cry, his movements now slowing hinting that he had finished too.
"If mi follow yuh mi nuh rest innuh, ah nuh you have funeral preparations fi do?" He spoke removing my legs from his shoulders, and moving forward to lay in bed with me, we had both been so tired I almost fell asleep the second he took it out that's when I turned to lay on his chest.
My legs possessed a burning sensation but I let out a laugh anyway, "Yes I do, nuh you have work fi finish up before the funeral starts?"
"A my business, tell dem fi nuh wait pon e draft paper dem nuh?"
I laughed to hide the pain, what I had been avoiding was now right in front of me. The funeral. All this sex, avoiding Jayda, not leaving the house etc. was me hiding from my problems.
I knew standing over that casket was going to be the last time I got to see her beautiful face, the last time I would see her in person. All I would have left of my favorite woman in the entire world were pictures and a house that Marsia would probably try to take from me.
It felt wrong to try to move on, it felt like I was creating room to forget about her.
Nothing would ever change the fact that she was gone, that I never got to see her before her eyes closed.
If she had been in the hospital and I got to see her before she took her last breath I would've been grateful, I wouldn't understand why she'd left but I would be a little more content knowing I saw my best friend alive before putting her in the ground permanently.
